


Grounded in Love

by Meandsushiroll



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Franada - Freeform, M/M, USUK - Freeform, coffee shop AU
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-07-11
Updated: 2015-10-26
Packaged: 2018-02-08 09:57:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 9,141
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1936563
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Meandsushiroll/pseuds/Meandsushiroll
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Francis left Paris to escape fading away. But even here, in this new city he is barely filled enough to keep him self on the ground. Can an adorable Canadian help him become grounded?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hello dear readers. This is a story I started two years ago (WOW) and I'm moving it over here to motivate myself to finish. I hope you enjoy and don't forget to subscribe!

 

Francis woke up early like he did almost every morning since he left France. He showered, trimmed his beard, dressed, and had a small breakfast before leaving his condo. It was early summer, the last flowers on the trees had started to wither and weeds on the sand seemed to growing at full force. He sighed as he got into his car. Another day.

Three whole years of another days. Well not  _whole_  years. Christmases, birthdays, extremely rare days off. Sundays. Points of excitement and liveliness. But really his time here felt like blur of "another days". He was fading into it, becoming weightless, like a ghost. He was almost empty.

It wasn't all that bad, he had a job that he liked and paid him an amount equal to how much it troubled him, which was a great deal. He had a nice home, a comfortable life, and the ability to seduce almost anyone. More importantly, most importantly, he had his best friends. He had his family. People who cared enough to nag him to come out for a drink and have fun. Those who would check up on him if he weren't in contact with anyone for more than a couple of days. They gave him weight, they kept him living.

But he was only half full. He still floated. If he missed one step he would tumble, tumble, tumble, upward toward the sky. He would get lost.

It was worse in Europe. After the two patriarchs of their makeshift, messy, extended family died everything sort of fell apart. The loss and pain translated accusations and loss of trust, which caused betrayals and feuds comparable to war. And so one by one, with the family broken, everyone left Europe until Francis was alone. Devoid of any actual real love, platonic or other wise, Francis  _did_  become a ghost. He only had his work to keep him from disappearing completely.

That was until Antonio and Gilbert who both stayed in touch called him from where they were and begged him to come over. It seemed that the in two years that everyone was apart they had been able to mourn and heal and they naturally gravitated toward each other. They all had ended up in the same city, and although egos were bruised and feelings were still hurt, they were together.

_Come over here_  they pleaded,  _our family can be back together again. It's not the same without you!_

He didn't need to be asked twice. As fate would have it, he was thinking about leaving Paris anyway, propositioned by a very rich and very demanding clothing designer to design her stores across the very same city they were all in. So he sold his soul to the boss from hell, packed his things, and moved right away.

Francis rolled up in front of the small simple looking café that made the best coffee around. He got out and entered, only to be surprised that the there was huge line in front of him. Usually, the place was mostly empty in the morning, the pretty little barista taking orders and making coffee in what seemed like seconds, having time to chat with Francis.

He sighed and looked at his watch. He had time before the meeting with the she demon, and if he was going to make it through without losing his temper and his job, he  _needed_  his morning coffee. As he was waiting on line he impatiently wondered what was taking so long. As the line inched closer he noticed he didn't see the dark hair curly of a petite woman, but the beautiful strawberry blonde waves of a tall man. As he inched closer he saw a glimpse of his glasses and an adorable curl sticking up from the top of his head. The closer he got, the more Francis got to see the thin but lean frame, the broad shoulders, the nice toned rump. But wasn't until he was in front of the man that he really saw him.

Francis nearly gasped, he so was amazed. A true work of art stood before him. Pale, soft looking skin was complemented by kissable pink lips, and a slightly crooked but fitting nose, and beautiful, dazzling eyes. Oh those eyes! They were a mystifying violet blue, shy and surrounded by blonde eyelashes. And his features were all accented by a bright flustered blush. Francis was baffled. How could someone look so adorable and yet so innocently erotic at the same time?

"Um sir?" The man's sweet timid voice pulled him back into reality. Francis hadn't realized he'd been staring of a couple moments too long. Thankfully there was only two people behind him and they were both preoccupied with their cell phone.

"Oh, I'm sorry cher" he grinned, only slightly embarrassed "I got lost in my out thoughts. Distracted."

"Oh" a small smile, Francis almost swooned. "It's okay. Can I help you?"

"Hmmm," Francis leaned in. "I think you most certainly c-"

"What the hell is this?" an angry looking woman yelled at the bespectacled beauty as she pushed Francis aside. " What the HELL is this!" she waved a coffee cup in the air

"E-e-xuse me? Is there a problem ma'am?" the young man stuttered.

" _This!_ " she spat as she pointed to the cup, "is NOT my order! I said latte with nonfat soymilk and two spoons of zero calorie sweetener! This crap is whole cow's milk with white sugar!"

"I-I'm sorry ma'am, I would be happy to make you a new-"

"Like I'm going to let you near anything I eat again! How much of a fucking retard do have to be to mess up a simple order like this huh? At least the little brown girl can take a coffee order right!"

"Miss" Francis put his hand on her shoulder. He had heard more than enough. "Firstly, as a long time customer I assure you that that kind of language in not tolerable here. Secondly, there is no need to scream like a child when things like this happen. If you had simply ask the young man to remake your coffee they way you desired. There is no need for name-calling and I suggest that you stop using that term to refer to something distasteful. It is very rude. And thirdly, if you do not like the service here I recommend you get you coffee elsewhere."

There was a moment of silence. The woman looked at Francis, to the young man, back at Francis, and then the other people in the café, who were all looking at her. She flushed with anger and she scowled and muttered something under her breath as she stormed out.

Francis turned back to the barista and everyone else went back to whatever they were doing. He smiled.

"Are you alright cher?"

"Yes I'm okay. It really was my fault" he sighed and took a breath. "But thank you so much."

"No problem." Francis smiled and gave the other man a very obvious one over, enjoying the blush it elicited before checking his watch. Uh-oh. He would have to save the flirt for later or he would be late and had to deal with the dragon lady. "But if it's not too much trouble, may I order my coffee?"

"Oh! Of course! What would you like?" his face brightened.

"Just a simple coffee, two sugars," he put his elbows on the table and dropped his voice an octave lower, "and  _lots_  of cream."

The blonde's eyes widened as he blushed again and squeaked something in response. He scrambled to make the coffee, spilling the cream and sugar around. When he returned his face was calmer, with a great effort it looked like.

"Thank you cher" Francis said as he paid for his coffee and put his change in the tips cup. " _Merci beaucoup_ " Francis winked and walked away, confident that the blush had returned of the young beauty's face.

He couldn't wait to see it again tomorrow.


	2. Chapter 2

 

Francis never thought that he would be so disappointed to see Shelly, the beautiful, bubbly, young barista that he was so fond of. Too young, Francis had learned sadly. After he turned thirty, he announced to everybody had decided not to court anyone younger than twenty-five, so a member of his crazy family wouldn't shoot him for even talking to his nineteen year old sister. He had kept to his word. So when he had learned that Shelly was only twenty-one, he gave up.

Still, he had developed his own almost father like love for her. She had moved here all by herself for a better life for her and her family back home. He felt a sense of pride when she talked to him about her grades and accomplishments at school, and he was comfortable enough to talk to her about his private life. She never judged, just listened and gave wise advice. She was his little angel.

"Hiya Francis! Why so early?" she asked as she immediately started making his coffee order.

"Bonjour Michelle." He sighed. "Honestly, I was hoping to talk to someone else this morning."

Shelly turned and gave him a half-serious, half- joking look of hurt, "You mean you didn't come early to see me?"

"Well I  _wanted_  to see you yesterday ma petite, but you had not informed me of your absence."

"Oh yes. Sorry about that. Mattie asked to switch shifts yesterday so I did."

"Mattie?"

"Yes, Matthew. The tall blonde guy with wavy hair? You must have seen him yesterday." She handed him his coffee before turning around to clean the counter.

"Ah yes, I remember. The adorable one." Oh he did remember. Memories of yesterday's morning had followed him around all day. He felt like a teenager the way he couldn't control his mind into thinking about the man. Good thing he was so on top of his work he could preform even at half his brain's capacity. "And what shift does Mathieu usually work in?" he asked slyly.

"He normally works in-Wait" She stopped and turned, eyebrows raised. "You came here early to talk to Mattie didn't you?"

Francis put up his arms in mock guilt "You caught me. I saw him yesterday, but our time was too short. Perhaps if I knew his regular work hours I could actually converse with him this time."

Shelly's lips pulled up into a sly grin. "You mean seduce him. I  _know_  you."

Francis grinned, "Well yes, that as well. Will you help me?"

"Hmmm. He usually waits tables works the afternoon shift, from noon 'til six. I think he can use a little you in his life." She winked "Knock him dead tiger."

\-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

 

Matthew never thought he would be happy to be waiting tables. The rude people, the heavy lifting, and the complicated orders usually had him exhausted but today he was grateful. Yesterday morning was one of the worst of his life. He had to respect Shelly; she had to deal with the same rude customers but before their morning coffee. That took major guts.

But the worst part of that morning was meeting that man. That man with the sweet smelling cologne and the smooth seductive voice. That man with the sparkling blue eyes and the teasing smile. That man's image, his essence had burned into Matthew in the few moments of interaction and made him flustered for a good hour after he left. Even after, every time he saw blonde wavy hair he flushed until he went to the bus terminal later that afternoon. Matthew could not remember being _that_  physically attracted to anyone, especially after only seeing them for a few minutes. One thing was certain for sure, he could never take see that man again. He was dangerous, very dangerous to Matthew.

When he moved here two years ago Matthew had decided that he would not let himself be affected by such trivial matters like romance. He told himself he wanted to focus on his carrier, but deep down he knew that it didn't want to be hurt again. How many times in his short life had he given his heart to someone, most of the time to people who didn't know he existed? After his last relationship ended Matthew gave up hope on finding happiness in love. He would never put himself through that type of pain again. Whoever said it was better to have loved and lost then to have never loved at all must have been smoking something strong.

He could never work the morning shift again. He couldn't risk meeting that man again.

Matthew sighed and glanced at the clock. Five fifty, and the café was empty. Ten more minutes and he can go home, curl up with Kuma, and some pancakes…he sighed. Who was he kidding?

Alfred and Arthur were visiting which meant he would get peace nor quite for their duration of their stay. Arthur would nag, Alfred would be obnoxious, and then they would fight and Matthew would be in the middle. He was just glad he had a roommate so they were forced to stay in a hotel, so he didn't have to listen to their incredibly loud and incredibly raunchy (Arthur) make up sex.

Not that he wasn't happy to see them. It was the first time they came to visit him since he moved here. It was just easier for Matthew to back home and stay with them (which is why he knew about the make-up sex), but he wanted two of the most important people in his life to see what he'd been working for all this time. But maybe he shouldn't have invited them for so long…

Matthew's thoughts were interrupted by the tinkling of the entrance bell. He glanced at the clock on the wall, five fifty-four. Shoot! He was going have to do unpaid overtime  _again_. Stupid owner and his stupid "We serve until we close, and we stay until you are done!" rule. Maybe he would be lucky and the customer just wanted to use the bathroom or something.

Matthew turned around hopefully, "Hello may I help…you?" The last park came out as a squeak. So much for being lucky.

The man at the door, the very man he swore off minutes ago, was now standing in front of him with a sly smile and seductive eyes and looking straight at him.

_Crap!_

"Well cher, I was rather hoping you could." He said in his silky accent. He smiled at him.

Blood rushed to Matthew's cheeks. This was bad. He had forgotten how much that smile affected him. The smile, his sent, his hands on his body, fingers gently caressing his face, another on his hip.

"Cher? CHER? Are you alright?" the man's face was close, concerned. Matthew jumped back.

Oh god. He just touched him. He touched Matthew. He wondered how long his brain could survive the lack of blood, since it was nowhere  _near_ his head now.

"Ah! I-I'm, um, fine uh, sir-"

"Francis." the man smirked, "My name is Francis. What is yours?" Good grief, Francis's voice was pure sensuality. "Cher are you sure you are well?" his face turned concerned again.

"YES!" Matthew squeaked out "I'm fine, good, A-Okay!"  _'A-Okay'?_ he thought, _Smooth Mathew. Smooth._ "But uh, as you can see we are closing now and um, the cook went home so-"

"Oh that's fine, I just wanted some coffee, if it's not too much trouble."

Matthew has a choice. He could lie, tell him they can't serve him and Francis would leave or he could tell the truth and get the man his coffee. And then probably ask Francis if he wanted Matthew along with crème and sugar. He should definitely lie.

"Well-"

"Of course it's not too much trouble good sir!" The owner boomed as he walked in. Crap. Matthew forgot that he was still working in the back. How can a man that old hear so well? "Matthew, serve the gentleman, you know our policy."

"Policy?" Francis asked, quirking his head to the side and raising his eyebrows. His gaze turned to the owner and Matthew felt himself exhale.

"Yes sir! We serve every customer that comes in until six, and we wait until you are through!" he pulled his wrinkled lips over his teeth. "The cook is gone, but if it's something simple Matthew here would love to serve you!"

"Oh, how lovely! You know sir more restaurants should be like this." He turned to Matthew, smiled again. "Such a _lluring_  service." He flicked back to the old eyes of the owner. "The policy I mean."

"Well thank you good sir! So many young people don't appreciate my ideas, but you seem to understand. I would love to stay and chat, but unfortunately I have an appointment to get to. Matthew can you close up please, after he's done of course?"

"Yes sir." He mumbled.

"Good. See you tomorrow. Good day sir!" And with that he turned and walked towards the back, no doubt going to leave from the back entrance, leaving the pair alone. Francis waved and turned his attention back to Matthew.

Matthew took a deep breath. He could do this. "So how do you want your coffee?"

  


 


	3. Chapter 3

"Hmmm." Francis purred seductively. "I'm not quite sure." He smirked sliding into a chair. "What would you recommend?"

 

The adorable blushing young man looked as if he was trying to cover his face with his order pad. "Well, uh, last time you had a coffee with two sugars and crème."

 

"Oh? You remember me?" Francis couldn't help the bright smile that took over his face. He knew he left an impression wherever he went, but this boy remembered his coffee order when he probably had taken hundreds.

 

Mathieu smiled shyly at his shoes, long blonde lashes over his violet eyes, "Ah, well…you kinda really helped me out…with that woman who was yelling."

 

"Yes I remember that. I remember you."

 

The boy's eyes snapped upward and reflected what seemed liked astonishment. He looked positively shocked at what Francis had said. He made a strange high-pitched noise, half way between a whimper and a chuckle, and then promptly looked back at his shoes.

 

After a long pause, Francis finally spoke "You know, I feel a little guilty keeping you here when you're closing. I'll tell you what cher, let me treat you to a drink. Anything you want. And what you pick, I'll have as well."

 

"That's not…I mean I can't…I mean it's-" Mathieu mumbled as his eyes stubbornly bore into the floor.

 

"I won't leave until you do." Francis leavened in and raised his eyebrows. Mathieu's eyes flickered up, "We can stay here all night if you want to."

 

Mathieu sighed and gave a small grin. "Alright then. Fine. I'll be right back." He turned, a little too swiftly because he stumbled over his own feet, which Francis found adorable, and walked behind the counter.

 

Francis smiled. This was perfect. Mathieu was the perfect chase, not to easy but knows when to give up. I wouldn't be long until he gave in completely and Francis would be sucking the life out of those rosy red lips. But the look of surprise Mathieu gave him was still on his mind. What was that all about? he wondered, Maybe I should let up a bit, I do tend to get carried away in my pursuits sometimes.

 

Mathieu walked over with two steaming mugs in hand and put one in front of Francis before seating himself. The aroma wafted up into Francis's nose and made him smile.

 

"Hot chocolate?"

 

"Ah, yes is that okay, I mean you said you wanted coffee, but then you said that you wanted to have what I was having and I already drank a lot of coffee today and if I have more I'm afraid I won't be able to get to sleep tonight because of all that caffeine but I should have just brought coffee because you asked for it sorry let me just get you so-" Mathieu fell silent when Francis placed his hand on top of his.

 

"Hot chocolate is wonderful cher. Perfect." It wasn't until Francis's moved his hand away did Mathieu exhale.

 

"Oh okay." He said in a very small voice, chewing his lip lower lip slightly "Good."

 

Francis chuckled. Mathieu was going to be the death of him, really. On the one hand he was so adorable that Francis wanted nothing more to spoil him like he would a child, and on the other hand he was so alluring he wanted to do things only suited for consenting adults.

 

"So Mathieu," Francis said as he brought the edge of the mug to his lips, "Where are you from?"

 

"Oh I'm from Ottawa." He took a sip. His face visibly relaxed as he relished the taste. "That's in Canada."

 

Francis chuckled, "I know where Ottawa is cher, I've been there a few times myself."

 

Mathieu looked up, faced brightened "Really?"

 

Francis smiled again, pleasantly surprised in the man's changed demeanor. "Yes. It's a very nice city, but personally I prefer Montreal."

 

Mathieu chuckled, "You would being from France."

 

Francis laughed "Is it that obvious?"

 

"Kinda." Mathieu smiled.

 

I comfortable silence settled in between them. It had been a good idea to ease up on the flirting. Francis was quite enjoying Mathieu's happy hot chocolate indused company until an annoying splinter of thought probed his brain.

 

He sighed. "Mathieu I know this is terribly rude of me, but what is your age?"

 

The man looked up at him inquisitively, "I actually just turned twenty five. Why?"

 

Francis's heart soared. For once, time was in his favor. "Well, eh, I have a friend who is um, a strong believer in the Chinese Zodiac. I was just wondering which sign you are. In case he would want to know, which he usually does."

 

Mathieu cocked an eyebrow at him. "Really? So do you know what I am?"

 

"Oh no, no cher. I am not versed on such things. My specialties are food and wine and design."

 

"Design?"

 

"Yes. That is what I do. I design buildings. Or at least the insides of them anyway. Here the title is "interior decorator" I believe. That it is why I am here, a woman has paid me to decorate for her here."

 

"Wow." He said, looking down and tucking his hair behind his ear. "That's amazing."

 

Francis huffed and rolled his eyes as he smiled, "You flatter me. It is not that impressive. I simply offer my suggestions, listen to the instructions she gives me, and then carry them out. Not so far from what you do here actually."

 

Mathieu's head cocked to the side and grinned, "Well when you put like that, then yes. But being a waiter is a lot less, um, glamorous than being an interior designer. And there are other differences."

 

"Like?"

 

"Like that they are in two different industries, and you probably work with cool and interesting people. And your boss probably doesn't force you to stay after hours with no pay." He frowned.

 

"Sounds like a pain."

 

"Absolutely! It's infuriating; he somehow thinks I want to be here, that I have not life. I don't like being all night with stupid customers." He looked up at Francis quickly, "But I don't mean that you are! I just meant that-"

 

Francis waved his hand, "Non, I understand Mathieu. Work is very frustrating for you. We should not talk about it any longer." He quickly finished the rest of his now lukewarm chocolate. He took a breath.

 

"As a matter of fact," he put his hand over Mathieu's again, "I don't want to spend another moment keeping you here when you can be doing more enjoyable things." He lifted the other man's hand between his own and brought it to his lips. Violet eyes widened as pink cheeks went red.

 

"You should come out with me. I promise that with me, your mind will be occupied with only pleasurable thoughts. What do you say cher?" Francis raised his eyebrows at him and smiled, waiting for the inevitable acceptance.

 

But Mathieu didn't say a word.

 

He just sat there, eyes wide, face flushed, like he was captured in a particularly captivating photograph. He didn't blink. I didn't even look like he was breathing. Worried, Francis lifted his hand to cup his cheek and Mathieu jumped out of his chair and away from the table as if Francis's hand had given him a bad shock. He stood panting, while he stared down at Francis.

 

"I um, uh-" He swallowed. "No. I'm sorry. I think you are…But no. Definitely no. I'm sorry."

 

Francis was taken aback for a moment, before rising from the chair himself and sighing, a little heart broken. He looked up with sad eyes, "I apologize, please do not take offence. I just assumed you were attracted to men, but I guess it was just wishful thinking."

 

Mathieu shook his head, "No I-I do. I-I mean I am, and I, and you…I mean you are… But no I can't." He sighed and looked at the floor, his curl almost looked droopy.

 

It would be and understatement to say the Francis was shocked. It was like the world stopped spinning. One of the only things he was sure of was this one truth; Francis wants someone, Francis gets them. Never forcibly or coerced, the men and woman he pursued always hopped on his arm or into his bed with no effort. He even seduced people who claimed didn't like men! Rejection didn't make sense! He was trying to go over the facts in his head. Mathieu liked men, Francis liked Mathieu, so Mathieu must like him. That is the the mathematics of his life. His A+B=C. He had always gotten anyone he wanted. Every time.

 

Francis was in a daze as his brain tried to wrap around this new development. So this must be what it felt like when people found out the world was round, he said to himself internally, so distracted that he didn't notice the extremely uncomfortable blanket of awkward silence that was damn near suffocating Mathieu.

 

He taller blonde cleared his throat. " Fran-" Francis raised his head as Mathieu started to speak. But he stopped and corrected himself, "Sir, I need to close the shop. I have relatives in town and they will have been waiting for me."

 

Francis nodded avoiding eye contact. He reached for his wallet, pulled more than enough to cover the bill and handed over to the other man. Mathieu started to walk over to the register to get change, but Francis stopped him.

 

"Non, C'est bon." he said, still mind still so foggy he unconsciously slipped into French. "Au revoir cher."

 

And with one last look at the beautiful, charming man in front of him, Francis turned and left the café, got in his car, and drove home.

 

 


	4. Chapter 4

It had been one full week since Francis’s Big Canadian Rejection, and Francis still did not know what went wrong. He was supposed to go to the shop, flirt a little, ask the adorable man out for a date, take him out after work, and then share a night of wondrous passion. Not get rejected and spend the night alone nursing his ego. What in the world had happened? It just didn’t make any sense!

He went over the scene again and again, hundreds of times in his head, but he couldn’t figure out why Mathieu had spurned his advances. It wasn’t as if Mathieu didn’t like men, he said as much himself. And Francis was sure his looks were not either, if how flustered the Canadian man was when he saw him was any indication (and really when was his looks ever a problem? _I am practically perfect,_ he thought, trying to reassure himself). And Mathieu certainly seemed charmed by Francis since he had flirted back ever-so-subtly.

Francis honestly didn’t want to think about it anymore, it was making him depressed, but he couldn’t help it. He decided he need to get out of his head and get an outside perspective, so he told his two best friends.

Big mistake.

Now in addition to being rejected, he was being laughed at by the two loudest idiots in the world in his favorite bar where everyone could hear on a crowded Friday night.

“It isn’t funny!” he said angrily at the two cackling men. “And that’s the last time I tell either of you anything!”

But his indignation only made them laugh harder.

“I’m sorry Francis,” Antonio said through tears, “It’s just- so funny!” He burst out in a fresh bout of laughter. Francis growled over his glass of wine and Gilbert hit him on the back none to gently.

“Oh _come on_ Franny! How many times have you laughed at us when we were rejected? Think of this as payback!” he said waving over the bartender to order another beer, “Hey barkeep! Guess who struck out?”

That was it. These two idiots knowing his secret shame was one thing, but damn him if this gets out beyond that. Francis grabbed Gilbert by the collar and growled out “Gilbert if you tell another soul so help me God I will-“

“Geez!” Gilbert pulled back, shoving Francis a little, “Don’t get your panties in a twist! You just got rejected, it happens to everyone!”

“Well excuse me if I haven’t had as much experience at failure as the two of you.” Francis grumbled.

“Hey!” Antonio objected, “Don’t lump me in with him! I haven’t had that many rejections, Gil’s the one always striking out!”

“I don’t _always_ stick out! Remember last month with those really gorgeous models? _I_ got them to come over to our table.”

“Yes but it was _Francis_ who took one of them home. _You_ got drunk and had to come home with me!”

“Well you didn’t bring one home either!”

“I’m engaged, stupid! I can’t bring anyone home!”

“Well you couldn’t if you wanted to.”

“I so could.”

“Could not!”

“Could too! Remember-“

“Will you two shut up already! _Merde_ it’s like were still in secondary school, we’re thirty for Christ sakes! Act like adults!” Francis snapped loudly at the two of them.

“What is wrong with you Francis?” Antonio asked frowning in confusion, “We always act this way. _You_ act this way.”

“Well you aren’t supposed to be acting like idiots right now, you are supposed to be helping me!”

“Helping with what?” Gilbert asked slowly, like Francis was crazy.

“My rejection! Mathieu! What am I supposed to do?”

“What do you mean what are you supposed to do? He said no, you move on.” Gilbert said simply, sipping his beer.

“That’s it?” Francis asked, skeptical, “Just give up? That’s your advice? That’s what people do?”

“Pretty much.” said Antonio, looking at Francis as if he was very slow, “ I mean you can’t make him go out with you. I guess he just wasn’t interested.”

“But he was interested, I could tell. Something- it was like something was holding him back, but I don’t know what.”

“Well whatever the reason, he said no so that’s that.” Gilbert said, “Plus it’s not like you were in love with him or anything, you barely knew him! And he’s not the last guy on earth, you of all people will find someone else!”

Francis sighed. He knew they were right, but he heard this stupid speech before, hell he had given it to them (actually mostly Gilbert) on more than one occasion, but he never thought he would need it himself. At least not until he was all old and wrinkly and couldn’t get the young beauties anymore. He never thought he would need it so soon, or that it wouldn’t be at all reassuring.

Surprisingly, his two normally oblivious friends could sense his unease, as Gilbert said “Come on Franny, don’t let this get you down. We could go to that new club you been wanting to go to downtown and pick up some company for the night. Then you can forget all about Manuel!”

“Mathieu.”

“Right, whatever. Come on it’ll be fun!”

“Gil’s right, you can’t just sit around and mope! It’s been a week, you have to get back out there. We should go to the club and you can let some hot young thing buy you a drink and take you home. And who knows? Gil might even get lucky!”

“Hey!” Gilbert said poking Antonio in the shoulder, “Like I said before, I can get plenty of-”

“What do you say?” Antonio interrupted.

“Yeah. Yeah that sounds good.” Francis said.

His two friends cheered, but as they paid their tab and Gil started bragging that he would bring the hottest person in the club home with him, Francis couldn’t get excited. Oddly enough, he couldn’t think about all the other fish in the sea or at the club. Right now all he could think about was how much he wanted to kiss an adorable blushing man who worked at a small quiet café, even as the hot young thing Antonio had promised him bought him a drink. Even dancing with him, chest to chest, hips together and sucking on his neck, he couldn’t stop thinking about a strange floating curl, blond hair, and violet, violet eyes.

That didn’t stop him from going home with him though.

\-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

The next morning, Francis felt on the close side of awful. He knew it was partially because he was hung over, and partially because he pulled a muscle sexing up the twenty seven year old trainer he met last night, but mostly because even after the hot and heavy passion of last night, Mathieu’s rejection still stung. He realized that even though the previous night’s activities were good (and really, Francis was never going to turn down sex with someone who looked like that) Laurence-or was it Larry- was not the person he wanted to wake up next to.

Still, ever the gentleman, Francis got up to make his guest an anti-hangover breakfast, which Lance?- yes Lance- thoroughly enjoyed. He left Francis with a kiss and his number with a request to call him anytime he needed a good workout before leaving for the gym. He was fairly certain that Lance meant the sexual kind.

Francis looked down at the number written on the card for only a second before balling it up and throwing it in the trash. His early morning realization really had set in, and he decided to do something about it. He would try again. He would get Mathieu in his bed, if it was the last thing he would do, his friends advice be damned.

_Get ready little Canadian_ , he thought to himself _, the French are coming._


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Matthew's decision weighs heavy on his mind, but him brother and brother-in-law's visit might just the cure! Until Francis shows up

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah...so...Hi...
> 
> I'm not even sure if people are still waiting for this to update, but I said I would finish and I will! I just am going to stop making promises on when. Anyway, enjoy!

 

It had been one full week since Matthew  had turned down the most gorgeous man he had ever seen, and honestly he felt like he made the right choice.  Francis was handsome and charming and wonderful and probably perfect and all but he was just a man Now was not the time for a boyfriend or anything like that in his life. He was simply too busy and too, too  _preoccupied _  for any of that.  He was confident in his decision. He was. He  _ was _  dammit. 

Never mind that every time the welcome bell of the café rang close to closing his heart leaped out if his chest, hoping to see those blue eyes again.  Never mind  that his eyes followed every man with long blond hair  he came across searching for subtle waves and stubble. And definitely don’t mind his recent browser history on gay French porn websites. Those occurrences don’t happen. They  _don’t _ .   Matthew was over it, nothing had even happened anyway and he had lots of other things to be concerned about, like the two blond men in the corner of the almost closing café, eating a burger and drinking tea.

Alfred and Arthur had apparently had enough sight seeing and vacation sex and had finally visited Matthew’s café. Well it wasn’t really his café yet, but he was going to buy it after the owner retired in about a year, which was why he was doing this stupid waiter’s job even though he had a business degree. The current owner wanted him to “work his way up” so he could “empathize” with his future employees. It was a good idea, Matthew supposed, but it was awfully tedious, starting from dishwasher to busboy to waiter, and after his boss deemed him ‘ready for more responsibility’ he was going to be the assistant cook. For once in his life Matthew thanked is lack of culinary skills (he could make some amazing pancakes, but beyond  that he was persistently average in the kitchen) because that mean skipping the co-cook job and going straight to assistant manager. Then he could get the manager position where he would stay until the old man is satisfied enough with his progress that he officially sell the café to Matthew and retire to a nice neighborhood  with his wife. 

Matthew couldn’t  wait for that day, it had been his dream since he was  a kid to run a little café or diner that served breakfast all day just like this one in a nice small city. This place was perfect, not to small or too large, located in a good, safe neighborhood with a lot of foot traffic so people were always coming in. Matthew would change a few thing of course, maybe put a Canadian flag or two and buy new tables made from maple wood, but that was still months away. _ I should focus  on the present _ , he thought, eyeing the two blond heads, the last in the place, and walking over. 

“So how do you like it?” he asked, his voice came out a shade quieter than usual, strange how those two brought this side out of him.

“Woah Mattie, didn’t see you there! Don’t sneak up on us like that, it's creepy!” Alfred said through a mouthful of French fries. Arthur made a face.

“ When will you  learn to finish swallowing your food before speaking? It revolting.” He said, setting down his tea softly despite the heat in his eyes. 

Alfred lips twisted into a smirk as he turned his attention the other man, “I seem to remember you loving the way I swallow babe . You sure were enthusiastic about it this morning in the shower .” He responded over his a smug sip of milkshake.

Arthur turned a pretty shade of pink and one of his eyebrows twitched, “Alfred! We are in public! In a restaurant for  Christ’s  sake! Can’t you behave for one minute?” he growled angrily. 

Matthew watched his brother smile. Man how Al loved to get a rise out of Arthur. Ever since they got married, he had bragged about they would never get bored because angry sex, or at least when Arthur’s angry, is the best ever and how wild Arthur gets in bed when he’s all riled up.

“I also seem to remember that you like me to misbehave,  Professor Kirkland, so that way you can  _punish _ me.”

Arthur turned completely red this time and looked murderous as he spat out “Now look here you right bastard! I-”

“Arthur please,” Matthew said, putting a hand on his shoulder, knowing full well how Arthur could get when no one stopped him from exploding. And even though there were no customers  he would rather not have a full blown argument  unfolding right in front of him. After all, the manager still popped in to check up on him randomly and he didn't want to have to introduce his only brother in a mist of a fight. He turned to Alfred, looking seriously, warningly, at his twin,  "You too Al, can't we all just  have a nice time together?

Arthur sighed  looking up at him apologetically , "You're right, we're sorry Matthew. We'll behave." He looked over at his husband, "Right Alfred?"

Al just shrugged and gave him an infuriating grin that Matthew was  well accustomed to,"Whatever you want Artie. You know me, always willing to please!"

Arthur just scoffed and rolled his eyes, sipping the rest of his now  cool tea. 

"Anyway Mattie, this place is great. Maybe once you take it over you can make it bigger, knock a couple of walls down, expand. Hell, I think you could even get  enough buzz and  make a franchise, put one of these on every corner of the city!  You could make a fortune! "

Matthew sighed, _not this again._ "Al, I told you that life that wasn't for me. I just want a nice small store in a nice  quiet neighborhood. I don’t need a franchise or a fortune ."

Alfred licked his fingers, finished with his burger, before turning to face him completely in his chair, "Mattie, I really don't know why you don’t believe in  yourself more! You keep selling yourself short and you could do such big things! You should have more confidence!"

Matthew signed at the familiar argument, one  they  have had for years. His brother always had a hard time understanding him (and others), usually assuming his ideals and values as right for everyone. Although they were twins, Matthew always thought that him and his brother couldn't be more different. 

"I have confidence  Al.  I just don't want all the responsibility and work for something that big. I just want to make pancakes and coffee and live a nice, quiet, normal life. Not everyone needs to be a  millionaire ."

"Quite right Matthew. Not everyone depends on being worshiped as a hero for their self-esteem." Arthur said, eyebrows raised in mocking, trying to get under Al's skin . Matthew signed.  They really couldn't help themselves could they?

Alfred rolled his eyes comically, opening his mouth to bite back, until Matthew put a reminding hand on his shoulder and cleared his throat . Signing, Al obediently sat back and mumbled out a "Whatever," turning his sulking  to his drink. 

Arthur smirked, shifting his focus after his small victory back to Matthew. "Well then, now that your career is all sorted, you can enjoy other things in life."

"Oh yeah!" Al brightened, leaning forward enthusiastically, "You're getting pretty old Mattie! When are you gonna settle down, ya know, get hitched?"

" Wha -  Al I \- I am not old! I am only twenty five as you damn well know! And I will get married when we are good and ready! If we get married at all!" 

"Oh really? 'We' ?  Who is this we? Is there a lucky candidate that we don’t know about?" Al wiggled his eyebrows. Matthew cursed internally when Francis's handsome face flashed in his mind. _'_ _ We _ _',_ a mean voice in his head said, _T_ _ _here is_ no ' we'  now  stupid. You chased him away! _

" T- there's  no one," he stammered out, trying to sound convincing, " I just meant, you know, the potential person."

Arthur tilted his head in doubt,  "Is there really no one? Not even someone you might just be interested in?"

_Crap_ ,  Matthew thought. He wanted to say no, to imagine Francis had never appeared in his life, that their connection, not matter how brief,  wasn't felt, strong and true. But he couldn't, and if he lied Al would know and be relentless until he confessed. But if he told them the truth, they would try to make him talk about why nothing happened, why he turned Francis down, and he definitely  didn’t want to do that. He sighed and tried to look for a way out, even though he knew there wasn’t one. 

"Well, uh," he swallowed, "You see I-"

As if he was being repaid for some good deed in a previous life, the front bell rang, announcing the arrival of a customer. Matthew thanked his lucky stars and started to turn when suddenly Arthur jumped up from his seat, eyes almost glowing with anger.

"What the hell are you doing here frog?" he spat out, surprising both his  husband  and his brother in law. 

_Frog_?  Matthew thought,  turning  around completely to see the face he had desperately trying to forget all week standing so calmly before him.

He locked eyes with Matthew, as if he didn't even hear Arthur's shouting, and gave him a breathtaking, heart- shattering smile.

"Hello again  mon cher. "

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please leave a comment!


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Francis tries again...and gets unexpected obstacles.

 

When Francis walked into the café where Mathieu worked, he knew that there was a possibility that there would be other patrons there. He had a plan for that, how he would get him alone and retry his seduction. He expected this time around to be a little more difficult than the first, but he certainly did not expect to see familiar green eyes and even more characterizing monstrous eyebrows. 

"What the hell are you doing here frog?" Arthur practically yelled, jumping up, eyes alight with Francis knew was rage. 

Francis and Arthur had an interesting history. Since their first meeting in primary school, they had had an intense and slightly bitter rivalry, their contempt for each other mostly expressed through pranks. And all right a few fights as well, but Francis didn't like to think about those, after all he was more a lover than a fighter. He much rather think of the time he and Antonio had shaved Arthur's head while he was passed out drunk at university, or how Francis had successfully convinced him to wear all his clothes backwards the first day of middle school with the belief that it was "the newest style in Paris". 

Thinking back about it now though, it all seemed incredibly silly. He was honestly ready to put that all behind him. After all, they were both full and well adults now.  

"Oh my, if it isn't Arthur Kirkland,” Francis responded calmly, trying to make peace. "It has been ages. How are you?" 

Unfortunately, however, it seemed that Arthur hadn't matured much. He narrowed his eye, making an obnoxious noise and crossing his arms. "You know what, it has been a long time. So long in fact, I'm surprised I recognized you, with how much you've aged and all. I always told you that all your smoking would catch up to your face and you can just see how many years it's added." He snarked, smirking at him in a way that still made Francis's blood boil.  

 _Alright_ , Francis thought, so much for civility! If _he wants to play that game, so will I._  

"I quit years ago rosbif, but I see your manners haven't improved while we were apart. Such a shame the English refuse to teach their children proper decorum. Not to mention the neglect to teach proper grooming, have you still not found a decent waxier cher?" Francis asked with a flourished gesture. 

Arthur visibly bristled, "Well you know what I-" 

"But how rude of  _me_ ," Francis interrupted, "I haven't said hello to you Mathieu and your ….guest?" Francis shifted his gaze to the man sitting across from Arthur with a confused look on his face. Francis' attention had been so preoccupied with Arthur, when on closer inspection; this man was far better to look at. As his eyes settled on the man's face, Francis was a bit taken back. He was quite attractive, but what was more surprising was that he looked very, very much like Mathieu. They were almost like doubles, seemingly around the same height and build, even having similar glasses. But behind them were sky blue eyes instead of violet, and his hair was straighter, worn short and choppy.  _His style_ _is_ _completely_ _different as well_ , Francis thought, _but still, they have to be at least brothers. Twins even._   

"Just two minutes with you, and I forget my manners, " Francis continued, not missing a beat despite this new revelation, "Such is the influence of the vulgar on the proper. I must remember myself." He eyed Arthur slyly. 

Arthur opened his mouth, but it was Mathieu's voice that spoke out first.  

"Um," he said nervously, looking back and forth between the two men and settling on Francis, "H-hello Francis. This is my brother Al. I mean Alfred." 

"Sup." Alfred said, holding his hand out to shake. Francis took it and shook briefly, all the while feeling Alfred look at him with confusion in his eyes, openly curious about what was happening between the two older men.  

"Nice to meet you." Francis said, then turning to grab a couple chairs and placing them next to Mathieu. To his pleasure, Mathieu took the seat, so he followed; gracefully sliding close to the violet-eyed man like the other two weren't there. He paused to take notice on how Mathieu looked absolutely delicious in his normal waiter's outfit, but today with his hair tied back. All that exposed neck was begging to be kissed, flushing prettily under the attention.  

"And how are you cheri?" he asked lowly, looking deep into the beautiful man's eyes.  

Mathieu cheeks turned red and he squeaked unintentionally the tiniest bit, which Francis found too adorable. 

"I'm, uh, alright. Um, Arthur and Al are uh, visiting me. Here" he looked uncomfortable with Francis focusing on him so intently, but Francis simply couldn't help it. He never wanted to stop looking at him and talking to him and touching him, and wow did he smell good and- 

"Is this why you are here Francis?" Arthur interrupted his thoughts with a sound of recognition. He was still standing, arms crossed, looking down at him. "To seduce Matthew? Haha! Well I am sorry, but that is never going to happen. Not if I can help it!" 

Francis raised his eyebrows, turning away from the object of his affections to look at the object of his irritation, "Oh really? And what are you going to do, fight me off?" He challenged. This wasn't twelve years ago; Francis was taller and more built than the skinny Englishman. He could totally take him if it came to that. "What goes on between Mathieu and I is none of anyone's concern, especially not yours." 

"As a matter of fact Matthew is family, so I'm making it my concern!" Arthur spat out, face twisted in anger, "So you need to stay the hell away from him!" 

Francis saw red as he leapt up from his chair. How dare Arthur tell him what to do, to stand in the way of what he wanted. They hadn’t seen each other in years and he was just as nasty as ever, and now he was giving him orders? And even if he was Mathieu's family, it is Mathieu who gets to decide what he wants, not a bitter old Brit. 

"Do you really care because he is family? Or is this just because of the time that visiting Polish student chose me over you, because still mooning about that is simply pathetic-" 

"That's not- Don't be ridiculous!" Arthur turned bright red in anger, "And-and he didn't choose you over me- you told him I had a boyfriend!" 

                                                                                             

"Well you did, didn't you? Everyone knew you were screwing Antonio's brother, even if you both tried to hide it." 

"I-we hadn't- that’s besides the point you bastard!" He growled out, raising his voice and grabbing the front of Francis's shirt.  

"Careful Arthur, this is Channel, men have killed for less." Francis's bit out as his hand shot out in response, holding on to his ugly tweed sweater vest.  

"Okay!" The man called Alfred interrupted in a clearly American accent and a borderline amused look on his face as he turns to Francis. "Look buddy, I think you should leave." He put his hand on Arthur's wrist and turned to him, "C'mon Artie, babe, let go." He continued, finally getting purchase and prying the hand off Francis's shirt.  

Arthur surprisingly relented, grumbling under his breath and allowing Francis to move his own hand and step backward. His eyes were still full of viciousness, but he let himself be maneuvered back down into the chair by the pair of strong looking, tan arms. 

"Wow, I'm impressed." Francis said, crossing his arms over his chest. " You've learned to tame him. Many good men and women have tried and failed at that." He looked Alfred up and down, "And I can see why."  

"Oi! You goddamn bastard don't you even  _dare_ -" Arthur started again,  

"Francis, I think you should leave." a soft voice came surprisingly from behind him, cutting Arthur off. Francis turned to see violet eyes look into his own, looking confused and a bit scared. Francis felt the beginning of an embarrassed blush tickle his cheeks. How could he have lost his temper like that, and in front of  _Mathieu_ no less. Lord knows what he must think of him now. What was he thinking?  

"You...um...uh...It's just that..." Mathieu seemed unable to find the right words as he glanced back to his brother and Arthur.  

Francis sighed and internally cursed his luck. He didn’t really want to leave, not when he barely even talked to Mathieu, but the night had turned sour already and it was clear that Arthur would make his plan of seduction impossible now, perhaps even for forever. He barely looked restrained as it was, and Francis could only imagine what he would do when he left and Alfred let him loose. Arthur was stubborn and vindictive, and now that he had seen what Francis was doing, he would never let him succeed. Francis would be surprised if Mathieu even looked at him again by the time Arthur spewed all the vile things about Francis as he could into him. And if they truly were family, in addition to his behavior before, Mathieu would probably believe everything Arthur would say, and want nothing to do with him. Francis knew he was beaten.  

"Well," he said, his voice betraying nothing but smooth confidence despite the crushing of his heart, "I know when I'm not wanted. It was nice meeting you," he tipped his head to Alfred, "Goodbye, mon cher." he said to Mathieu, giving him one of his best smiles. He looked at him for a moment, in of all of his subtle beauty and felt his heart give a painful squeeze.   

He turned from the other three men, not before giving Arthur one last pointed look, before walking slowly out the door, out of the delightful little café, out of Mathieu's life.  Francis left the warmth he had found in the Canadian man, pretending the coldness he felt in his heart was from the summer night air. 

 


End file.
